


Something More

by Dreamformetoo



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Co-workers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-11-02 05:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamformetoo/pseuds/Dreamformetoo
Summary: Baz’s family owns the thriving coffee shop chain Deja Brew and he’s ready to join the business. But first, his father is going to make him work at one of the Deja Brew shops to learn the trade. Baz just wants to get it over with, but little does he know what, and who, this job will bring him.





	Something More

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my contribution to the Mini Bang! It’s been a lot of fun to be a part of this, especially as we await the sequel! Thanks to the mods for putting this together for all of us, we definitely needed it to get through these last few weeks.

I grew up with the smell of coffee, but there’s still something quite charming about it. I can tell the difference between a Mocha Java and a Dark Roast Columbian by sight and touch alone, but I can smell the difference blindfolded and in another room. My sister says it’s my superpower. I say I’m just well-researched.

I’ve been to all of the suppliers of my family’s ever-growing coffee shop franchise. Every single one. Not even my father has been to every supplier. Malcolm Grimm is more comfortable reading it all in a report than exploring where the beans come from in person. I would gladly do both. Which is why I think it’s ridiculous and actually, degrading, for my father to be making me work for the last semester of my school career at the university branch of Deja Brew. 

It’s meant to be a way for me to prove my commitment to the business, but I don’t believe that for a second. I know that my father just doesn’t want to have to listen to my ideas about more efficient procedures and different flavor combinations any more than he has to. He’s hoping that one semester of working will create distaste. He’s wrong. 

***

“Thank you for choosing Deja Brew!”

I hear Snow’s chipper, customer service voice behind me and inwardly cringe. I forgot he was working today. 

It’s been one and a half months since I started at the cafe, and one and a half months of torture by one Simon Snow. Only half of which is actually his fault, admittedly.

We first met a few years back, at football tryouts. I’d been at my best, which had made the team. Snow had been at his best, which had not made the team. He’d overheard me laughing about him with Dev and Niall, and ever since, I’d sometimes catch him glaring at me from across campus. Working with him now, he treats me like some evil villain not to be trusted. It gets exhausting.

What he doesn’t know is that I was making fun of him that day after tryouts to cover up the fact that I’d found him ridiculously, outrageously attractive. 

And I still do.

Which is the other half of this torture.

Thankfully, sarcasm and cruel jokes come naturally to me. Which annoys Snow. Which makes him get flustered and red in the face. Which I enjoy, much to the annoyance of most of our other coworkers. 

I close down the till while Snow flips the open sign off and pulls the shades on the windows around the shop. He sneezes four times while I’m counting the money and I frown harder each time. 

“What, do you have the plague or something, Snow?”

Snow sighs, which turns into another sneeze.

“Ugh. No. Just a cold, so leave me alone.”

I would normally do just the opposite, but something about his raw voice and stuffy nose makes me pull my punches. I go to the office to put the money in the safe, and when I come back, Snow has the broom out. I glance at the chore schedule on the back of the office door. Snow’s name is next to the closing chores list. He starts coughing in the other room and I wince. I don’t think I can leave him here to clean like I usually would. Damn it.

“Give me the broom,” I say, coming out from behind the counter.

Snow glances up at me with a frown.

“Fuck off, I don’t need your orphan jokes today, Baz.”

Right. This might be harder than I thought.

“No, really. The last thing I need is for you to collapse here overnight. Bunce works in the morning, and I’m the first person she’d blame if she found you dead.”

Snow leans back against a table and narrows his eyes at me. 

“What’s in it for you?”

I sigh and put my hand out for the broom.

“Not everything is a joke, Snow. You look terrible. Give me the broom.”

Snow hesitates a moment before pushing the broom into my hand. 

“Fine,” he says. “But I’m not letting you do it all by yourself, you’ll just hold it over me forever. You do the floor, I’ll wipe down the counters.”

It takes us half an hour to get everything done, and it’s gotten dark. I wait for Simon to wrap his scarf around his neck before opening the door to leave.

We live in opposite directions, so while he turns left, I turn right.

I’ve just got one earbud in when I hear him call out with his sore voice.

“Hey, Baz! Thanks for uh, helping me out tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

For a minute, I think I’m hallucinating. Simon Snow is grinning at me. 

“Yeah, Snow. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

Two weeks later and the weather is beginning to warm up. I get cold easily, so it’s something that I look forward to each year. The gradual shift from winter to spring. Now, though, it just means that Simon’s stopped wearing his long sleeved shirts and I am faced with not only a face full of freckles each day, but arms full of them too.

It just might be my undoing.

“Baz? What are you looking at?”

I blink and adjust my gaze, which had been on Simon’s freckled, strong arm. I shake my head, accepting the cup he’s passed to me, and do my best attempt at creating a swirl pattern on the surface of the hot espresso. Simon really should be manning the drinks, as he’s actually the best barista of all of us, but for some reason Ebb has him scheduled at the till for today. 

Normally, on the rare occasions we’re scheduled alone together, Simon spends the shift throwing glares at me in silence. Something’s changed recently, though. Since I helped him close the cafe that night, he’s treated me closer to how he treats all of the other employees. He asks me questions and offers to help me when it’s busy, even listening to my many rants on how Deja Brew could be better with just a few adjustments to the procedures and menu.

We’ve become friends, I think. 

Which has made the whole being in love with him thing so, so much worse.

Still, I’ll take however much Simon Snow I can get. 

Which is why when he invites me over to watch the match tomorrow at his flat, I don’t make an excuse not to go.

***

It was probably a bad idea to invite Baz over.

We’ve been getting along really well lately, so when he’d mentioned the match, I’d just told him to come to mine to watch after work. Not a big deal, really.

Except that I’m pretty sure I’m falling for him.

Penny’s been telling me that actually, I’ve had a crush on Baz for a while now. She thinks ever since that day at football tryouts, but I say no, he was just a dick. And he still is. But now I also think he’s kind of funny, and wicked smart. Not to mention fit as fuck. Sometimes at work, Penny’ll catch me watching Baz work the till, his apron tied around his waist, hair often up in a bun, so that the back of his neck is eye level…

Yeah, probably not a good idea that Baz is coming. I don’t think he has a girlfriend or anything, but I’m also not sure if he’s straight or not. And I am notoriously bad at recognizing those kinds of things. It took me forever to sort myself out, so I hadn’t had the energy to figure anyone else out. 

Either way, Baz is going to be here any minute. 

The flat is clean, the TV is set to the right channel, and I have a plate of homemade biscuits on the coffee table. When Penny had seen me cleaning and baking before she left for work this afternoon, she’d laughed. 

“What are you trying to do, seduce him with your anxiety-induced hosting skills?”

I’d groaned and thrown myself onto the couch, which is where I still am. 

There’s a knock at the door and I jump up. 

I’m used to seeing Baz in all sorts of clothes (usually button ups and slacks, which why does he even bother when there’s no uniform at the cafe), but they’re always accompanied by his company apron. So seeing him now, wearing jeans and a casual (for him) short sleeve button up without an apron in the way is something I was not prepared for. 

“What, are you offended that I didn’t wear team colors?”

“What?” I say, stepping back to let him in. “Oh, no! Sorry, I’m just excited for the match is all.” 

“I can tell,” Baz says, eyeing the room as I lead him to the couch. He smirks when he sees the biscuits on the table. “Do you always buy biscuits for a football match?”

“Hey, they’re a good snack! And besides, I made these myself, thank you very much.”

He sits beside me and looks honestly surprised, but just for a moment. His smirk comes back quickly. 

“Are they edible, then?”

“Fuck off, yes they’re edible!”

Baz laughs and I gesture to the biscuits. 

“Well, go ahead, try one. They’re a new recipe, so give me your honest opinion.”

He takes a biscuit and I look away as he chews. It really is a new recipe, I’d only written it down two days ago. If he likes it, I’ll put it in the recipe box that Ebb got me last year for Christmas. The other employees had gotten a good laugh at that, but I know Ebb was sincere. She says I should open my own bakery someday, but obviously, that’s a dream that’ll never come true. 

“Snow. Simon. That was the best thing I’ve eaten in months.”

I grin at Baz and feel my face turning red when he reaches for two more.

“Honestly, you made these yourself? That’s actually quite impressive.” 

“I’m glad you like them,” I say, grabbing one for myself. “I’ll add it to the collection of good recipes!”

“Wait, you have more? Simon Snow, are you secretly a baker?”

“Erm, yeah, kind of?”

I rest a hand at the back of my head, tugging at my hair.

“It’s something I started when I got the job at Deja Brew, actually. I was a bit of a mess back then, and learning to make the kinds of sweets we sell was a good distraction from life, I guess. And somewhere along the way, I got good at it. Or so people tell me.”

Baz shakes his head, “Don’t act so modest, Snow. These are good enough to sell at the cafe!”

I shrug and lean over to tear a biscuit apart before eating the pieces. 

“Yeah, that’s what Penny says. I wouldn’t even know how to do that though. Just go up to Mr. Pitch at his office downtown and say, ‘Hello sir, I work at one of your shops and I think you should sell my biscuits!’ I doubt that would go over well.”

Baz is silent for a moment, eyes on the TV in front of us. 

“Well, you never know. Stranger things have happened.”

***

Since that night, Baz has been over to mine and Penny’s place a lot more. He comes for dinner sometimes, or to watch matches. Sometimes he comes over after work with Penny, and they get talking about some project of one of theirs for class, and I just sit there listening to them argue. It’s kind of nice, actually. 

I think he likes me. Normally, I would never even have considered someone like Baz liking someone like me. But lately I’ve noticed him watching me, letting out a laugh when I joke around, and the other day, Penny saw him turn down a guy who asked for his number at work. So he’s not straight, which has made this whole thing much more nerve-wracking. I want him to like me back.

Anyways, Baz, Penny, and I are set to work together all day today, which is going to be awesome. It’s the middle of exam week and I have an essay due in two days, but I’ve already decided that I won’t stress about any of that today. Penny’s last exam was yesterday, so she’s got nothing to worry about. I haven’t heard from Baz much, but I know he has a big exam tomorrow. He’s scheduled to make the drinks with Penny today, but I’ll probably switch with him. I know he prefers working the till, so that’ll make him happy, not that he’ll admit it. 

Penny and I get there early, so we start opening the cafe, keeping an eye out for Baz so that we can unlock the door to let him in.

Except he doesn’t come. 

An hour into the day, and Baz is still nowhere to be seen.

Two more hours, and we hear from Ebb that Baz had actually called in last night to say he wouldn’t be able to come in. Which is fine. Penny and I can manage just fine on our own, but I spend the rest of the day wondering what’s so wrong that Baz had to call out. He’s been working here for months and has never taken a day off, even when he caught my cold that one time. 

When we’re done closing the store, I hesitate outside the doors when Penny turns left towards our flat. 

She sighs.

“Go on, Simon. I’ll see you later.”

I grin and turn right, towards Baz. He’s only let us come over once (and said never again after we made such a big deal over how fucking posh it is), but I can get there. I don’t have much of a plan besides that, getting to Baz, but I figure I’ll know what to do when I see him. 

***

Everything is terrible.

I had everything under control. I got work scheduled around my exam dates. I organized study times for each day. And then a classmate found a copy of last year’s version of the exam. 

The class group chat descended into chaos. None of what was on this exam was what we’d been studying. 

This exam is worth almost half of my grade for this course, so it is absolutely essential to do well. Especially if I want to keep my honours. And especially if I want my father to give me a position in the company (a good one, at least) when I graduate. I think of my aunt Fiona, who’d had to fight my father for years for a position in the corporate sector of the company. I just know what he’ll say if I end up with any scores less than perfection. “Oh, but Basilton, I’m just not sure that you’re ready for this. This is the real world you know, and it’s much more complex than your university courses…”

So I called Ebb, told her I wasn’t going to make it to work the next day, and I’ve spent the last 24 hours submerged in this semester’s notes. I’ve stopped a few times to make myself some tea, but the lack of sleep is starting to get to me. 

I hear someone pound on my door and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve fallen asleep. My joints are stiff from sitting for so long, so I take a second to stretch when I stand up. Whoever it is pounds on the door again. 

“I’m coming!” 

When I pull the door open, I see Simon. At least I think I do. Maybe I really am asleep.

“Simon?”

“Fuck, Baz! Why’d it take so long for you to answer the door? I thought for a second you might be dead!”

He reaches up to pull at his hair and I blink at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t come to work! Which is fine, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, or whatever. But Ebb didn’t know why and you weren’t replying to us, so...well. I just thought I’d come make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m...do you want to come in?”

Simon’s eyes widen when he sees the mess of papers and books all over the floor. 

“Is this all for your exam tomorrow?”

I nod and lead him to the kitchen, the nearest area without any of my study materials thrown around. I lean against the counter. It must be the exhaustion, but I don’t think I could stand upright without it.

“Yes. I’ve…I’ve been awake for a while, just trying to get everything into my head. But I don’t think it’s working. I’m trying to think of the last thing I was reading, but I can’t even remember.”

I drop my head into my hands.

“Oh, hell. I don’t know what I’m even doing, Simon. What am I going to do if I fail? I don’t have a backup plan. Ugh. Fiona tried to tell me, but I was just so confident. And I should have fucking listened! Why don’t I ever fucking listen, what the fuck is wrong with me?”

Suddenly, my hands are pulled away from my face. Simon’s in front of me, holding my hands to his chest, blue eyes staring straight at me.

“Baz, it’s okay. You’re not going to fail. You’re so fucking smart, you’ll probably get the highest score in your class!”

“But Simon, you don’t understand. My family...there’s a lot of pressure for me to do well. To do the best, actually, and I don’t...I’m not sure if...”

Simon pulls on my hands and I fall forward, arching into him. 

“Baz, breathe. You don’t have to do the best, you already...to me, at least…”

He pauses, grip warm on my wrists. 

I realize how close we suddenly are, faces only inches apart. 

“Simon?”

One of his hands releases mine, coming up to grab the back of my neck, pulling my head down, bringing our mouths together. 

His lips are softer than I’d imagined. He’s always biting at them, so in my daydreams they’re chapped or rough. In reality though, they’re so smooth. Not that it matters. The only thing that matters is how his mouth opens, how he pushes me back against the counter, how my free hand clutches at his arm, pulling it closer. How in just these few seconds, he’s changed my whole state of mind.

Simon pulls away and I tighten my hold on the hand still in mine. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice low. “I should probably go, I don’t want to keep you from studying.”

I shake my head and lean my forehead against his.

“No, I don’t want you to go. Keep me. I don’t mind.”

He smiles softly at me and I feel myself grinning back.

“If you say so,” he says, before I cover his mouth with my own.

***

“Thanks for choosing Deja Brew!”

Simon, wiping his hands on his apron, nudges me with his shoulder.

“You could at least try to smile for the customers. It’s not going to kill you.”

“You don’t know that,” I reply. “And as I’ve yet to try, my working theory is that it actually would kill me. Besides, it’s not like I’m going for employee of the month.”

Simon goes back to restocking the tea, as he was doing before the customer came in. He’s scheduled at the till today, and while usually I would have begged him to trade me, I’m actually fairly confident in my drink making abilities lately. Simon’s taught me a lot. 

“Why not, eh?” Simon asks. “You don’t want your picture up on the wall?”

I shake my head, using a rag to wipe down the counter. 

“We all know it’s going to Penny this month. She deserves it after surviving that university tour that came in while I was on lunch last week. Though actually, employee of the month might be something I’d be able to tell my father about…”

I imagine it now, his awkward grin as I share the news at one of our Sunday dinners. My stepmother would be delighted.

“Oh yeah? What does your dad do again?”

I turn away to throw the rag into the bin for washing.

“Business stuff, you’d find it awfully boring. I know you fell asleep the other night reading one of my textbooks.”

“Only because you refuse to talk to me when you’re studying!”

“That’s because I’m a serious student.”

“Really? I think it’s because you’re a-”

“Ugh.”

Penelope stands on the other side of the counter, arms folded. She’s been wiping down the tables in anticipation of closing, which is yet another reason why she deserves employee of the month. 

“Can you two stop flirting for even one minute? It’s disgusting. You’ve been dating three weeks, and honestly, I’ve had enough of it.”

Simon winces. The bell over the door rings so he lowers his voice.

“Sorry, Pen. It’s just that Baz is so-”

“Baz is so what?”

I freeze. That’s a familiar voice. A familiar voice that I did not anticipate hearing anywhere near this cafe while my father’s got me working here.

“Fiona! Are we scheduled a corporate visit that Ebb didn’t tell us about?” Penelope approaches her with a polite smile, holding the rag she’d been using behind her back.

Fiona stands in front of the till, looking for all the world like a customer. Albeit, one older than our usual university student crowd. She still dresses that age, though. 

“Nope,” Fiona says, leaning against the counter. “Just thought I’d pop in, say hello. So, what were we saying about dear Basilton, here? I’m dying to know.”

Simon’s brow furrows and I do my best to push Fiona away with my glare. I hadn’t told my family that I’d been keeping my connection to the company a secret, because I knew Fiona would do something like this. Show up to share my secret and have a laugh. I didn’t anticipate her doing it on accident though.

“You know Baz? I didn’t think you’d been in since he started in January.”

Fiona waves a hand, “Simon, don’t be silly. Fiona Pitch. Baz Pitch. He’s my nephew!”

Penelope turns my way first.

“Baz! You didn’t tell us you’re a Pitch, the heir to the Deja Brew throne!”

“I think ‘throne’ might be a bit dramatic,” I say, eyes on Simon. He’s got that scrunched up, confused look of his on display. 

“A touch of drama is just the Pitch style, though, isn’t it, Baz?” Fiona says, oblivious to my stress. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. I really did only want to pop in. See this gorgeous mess in an apron.”

She smirks at me and pushes away from the counter, grabbing a pre-wrapped biscuit as she goes. I’d just restocked those.

“See you all next month for an official check in. And I’ll see you this weekend, Baz. We’ve got that bore of a dinner for your stepmother at the Landmark, don’t forget. I can’t be the only interesting person there.”

And with that, she’s gone. The bell on the door rings as the door closes behind her and I close my eyes for a brief moment. I hadn’t meant to keep this a secret. Well, yes I had. But not in the way that it would affect anyone else. I hadn’t anticipated caring enough about anyone else for it to even matter.

“It all makes sense now!” Penny says, hitting me in the arm as she comes behind the counter. “I wondered why you needed to work here when you have such an expensive flat. Even together, Simon and I couldn’t afford a studio in that building.”

Simon grins, but it’s at about half the strength as a usual smile from him. I feel something heavy settle in my chest.

“Yeah, Baz. You’re going to have to buy us dinner tonight to make up for all the times you could have paid for us,” he says.

“If you insist.”

***

I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. 

Sure, Baz is rich. It explains a lot, actually. His posh accent. His expensive flat. Even now I can see his snobbery as a side effect of his richness. 

And it’s bothering me. 

I thought initially it was the secret of it all. That he hadn’t told me. And maybe it was, at first. I know that’s what he thought it was. 

He’d bought us dinner that night, as he said he would. When we’d finished eating though, he’d apologized for not being honest. He said he just didn’t want to be treated any differently. He explained that his father just wanted him to get some first hand experience, before joining the corporate office officially after graduation. Penny was completely fine about it and honestly, I was too. I wasn’t about to judge Baz for not wanting to be judged. 

But now, I’m noticing things. Things like how expensive his clothes are. How Baz doesn’t even think before paying for my treats at the cinema. How there is a Deja Brew in every part of the city. 

His family isn’t just rich. They’re filthy rich. Billionaire rich. Why on earth would he want to date a poor student like me, kind of rich.

So, yeah. The secret didn’t bother me. The fact that he’s inheriting one of the largest coffee shop chains in the nation is what’s bothering me. The fact that I’m not worthy of that at all, and definitely not of his attention. 

It’s been a week since Fiona came into the shop. A week of me realizing that Baz could do so much better than some bloke who’s a part time student, part time cafe worker. 

This isn’t going to last, no matter how much I want it to. He’s going to graduate in a couple of weeks and start some fancy job in the office downtown and I’m going to be here. Graduated, working at the cafe, with no plan at all. 

I don’t see how he could possibly want to be with me at that point. And I’m too far into this already to imagine what it’ll feel like to lose him now, let alone in another few weeks. Besides, no matter how I would feel, I don’t want to be a burden to him. Baz’s been telling us about the insane schedule his father is preparing for him when he starts at the office. Apparently it’s some sort of “prolonged punishment” for something, but I just can’t help thinking that he’d be better off without me. 

***

Simon’s been acting strange lately. Typically, he’s the more affectionate out of the two of us (which I don’t mind in the slightest). Lately though, he’s been acting almost nervous to initiate anything. Even his smiles have gotten more awkward than sincere. It’s unnerving. I can’t help but think I’ve done something wrong. 

He and Penelope both reassured me that they weren’t mad about keeping my family a secret, so that can’t be it. Unless...no, Simon wouldn’t lie to me like that. He’s not a liar. If anything, he’s incapable of keeping any emotions hidden. 

Which is why it’s so obvious that something’s upsetting him. My best guess is that he’s just stressed over graduation. I know that I am. Father’s got me preparing for my position by having me interview others in the office about their responsibilities and tasks and work habits. Like I’m a teenager who’s never seen an office before. It’s fucking humiliating. But I know it’s just because he’s upset that I did so well at the shop. Either way, I understand if Simon’s stressed. I just wish he’d let me help. 

He texted this morning, asking to meet at the cafe down the street from our Deja Brew. To talk about something. Hopefully he’ll tell me why he’s been acting so strange. If not, I’ll just have to ask, awkward or not.

“Hey,” Simon says as I sit across from him at the cafe. He’s wearing the shirt he always wears to work, and I remember that he has a shift starting in half an hour. 

“What did you want to talk about?” I ask.

I feel rude cutting to the chase like this, but we don’t have a lot of time, and Simon tends to stutter and pause when he talks about himself. I want him to be able to share with me.

“Erm. Well, actually, I wanted to talk...to talk about us, really.”

My stomach tenses, breath catching. 

“Oh? What do you mean?”

Simon taps at the table in front of him. 

“I think we should break up.”

What. 

When I don’t reply, he frowns and shrugs at me. 

“I just...we’re graduating soon, and I think it might be...best if we, erm, ended things now.”

Best for who? My brain is going into overdrive, cataloging the last week. My secret must have hit him harder than he’d let on. Fuck.

“Look, Simon,” I say, hands gripping each other in my lap. I don’t want him to see how upset this is making me. “I don’t understand. What’s going on here?”

He shakes his head and leans back.

“Nothing’s going on! I’ve just been thinking about the future, really. You know, graduation and all that. And...I don’t know how I, how we, fit into each other’s futures after that is all.”

Ah, I see. This was never a long term thing for him. Just something to have before he graduated and had to start living in the real world. The ache I’m starting to feel in my chest seems a bit pathetic now. I hate feeling pathetic.

“Thinking about the future, wow. Is that a first for you?”

Simon’s forehead scrunches.

“Baz.”

“No, I get it. You were just going along with it. That makes sense, actually. I know you don’t like to think things through.”

“Baz.”

“But you know what, that’s fine. I’ve got a lot on my plate as it is, so this works out for both of us.”

“Baz, just shut the fuck up. I was trying to be nice about this and-”

I roll my eyes.

“Not everything has to be nice, Simon. In fact, it’d be a lot easier if it wasn’t.” I stand and glance at my watch. “Well, I’ve got to run. I’ve got a meeting with the board in an hour. We don’t need to bother with this,” I wave my hand between us, “any longer. You’re right. I’ve got to start thinking of the future. See you at work.”

I leave before he can reply. I don’t want to hear what he has to say, really. He doesn’t want me, and no matter what reasons he gives, I’d obsess over them for ages. 

He doesn’t try to follow me, which is good. I’m not sure I’d have the strength to keep leaving.

***

It’s been a month and a half since Baz left Deja Brew. Well, technically he was promoted, but still. A month and a half since I’ve seen him.

It’s been fine. 

Penny and I graduated. Her parents threw us a celebration dinner at their house, which only became a big thing because her family is gigantic. 

We moved into a new flat, though it’s in the same building. It took us two days to get everything moved. We don’t have that much stuff, but the lift was broken that weekend, and it was just the two of us.

Otherwise, things are pretty much the same.

Ebb’s been letting me sell some of my recipes at the shop, actually. She says Fiona gave her the go ahead for a test run, but I know it won’t get anywhere past this. Deja Brew is too big of a company to start selling one employee’s pastries. But I have to admit, it’s pretty nice to see customers enjoying the stuff I make. 

The other day, a professor came in and bought five of my biscuits because she said they were the best thing she’s ever eaten.

I wasn’t there, but Penny told me that it was the proudest she’d ever been of someone who wasn’t herself. 

“Simon! C’mere, would you?”

I only worked the morning shift today, and I’ve got my apron halfway untied, and a biscuit in my mouth, but I head back towards Ebb’s office. 

“I’ve got news,” she tells me before I can even sit down, or finish chewing. “Fiona just called!”

I swallow what’s left of my biscuit. 

“Is it...good news?”

Ebb shrugs.

“I dunno, Simon. She says they want to see you down at the corporate office this week to talk about your baking. What do you reckon, you think they’ll expand the test sale?”

Now it’s my turn to shrug.

“Can’t say. Either way, I hope they let me keep selling here, at least. It’s kinda nice to bake for other people, not just me and Penny.” 

“I think it’s wonderful, Simon. They want you there tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll cover your shift. Let me know what they say though, will you? I’m rooting for you!”

I find myself smiling on the walk back home, and I realize this is the first time in a while that I’m rooting for myself too.

***

“What’s this meeting about? All I know is that Leah put it on my schedule, and that I wasn’t allowed to get out of it.”

Fiona reaches over and pinches my cheek before I can push her hand away. I hate when she does that, but especially in front of people who are supposed to be my equals now.

“Aww, little Tyrannus is already trying to get out of meetings, how cute!” 

Fiona laughs and I roll my eyes at her, turning back to my laptop.

“Seriously, Baz,” she says, “Your father called this meeting, none of us can get out of it. Believe me, I tried too. And speak of the devil…”

I look up to see my father enter the conference room. He’s got a mug of coffee in his hand, as usual. As a child, I thought he must have drank ten cups a day. I learned in secondary school that the mugs were provided to him by his assistants, and that most of them went untasted. It was my mother who’d been a fan of coffee. My father preferred tea.

“Welcome, everyone. Thank you for accepting this meeting so graciously into your schedules.” He glances my way and I nod politely. I don’t need him to have another reason to keep me away from making any decisions here. 

Father takes a seat at the head of the conference table, and we all adjust our seats towards him. If I wasn’t jealous of his position, I’d find the attention he gets laughable.

“We’re here to discuss one of the new tests we’ve been running. This one’s about the baked goods section of our menu. Most of you know already, but we’ve been testing a new line of pastries, recipes designed by one of our own employees.”

I sit forward in my seat. Fiona glances back at me with pursed lips.

“Actually,” Father continues, “It’s one of the employees from the branch you were just at work in, Basilton. He’s joining us now, and we’re going to discuss the outcomes of this test.”

Before I can say something, do anything, leave the room, the door opens and Simon Snow walks in. Somehow, I find myself standing, as if he’s the fucking Queen or something. He’s wearing a shirt and tie (a green tie that looks suspiciously like one I thought I’d lost), and standing in the door across from me, eyes wide.

“Surprised to see an old coworker, Basilton? There’s no need for the drama, do sit down. Simon, welcome! Take a seat.”

I sit back down and Fiona kicks my ankle. I look to my right to see her raising her eyebrows at me, but I can’t tell if she’s excited for this to be happening or as nervous as I am. She’s the only person here that knows about Simon and I. 

Simon sits at the end of the table, across from my father. He’s sitting straight and has his hands folded on the table. I try not to stare, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen him.

He looks good.

“Simon, welcome to the Deja Brew office,” my father says. “How do you find it?”

“Erm, well it’s very nice, sir. Thanks for having me.”

“Oh, it’s no bother! We love to have employees of the different branches come in to visit us, don’t we, everyone?”

I hear everyone else around the table agree, but I can’t take my attention off of Simon. It’s been a rough few weeks without him. I’d gotten so used to having someone to talk to, to laugh with. I knew before we even got together how special he was, but after having really known him, I’ve been having trouble trying to un-know him. 

“Now,” father continues, “We’re here to talk about the baked goods you’ve been selling at your branch. I’ve got to say, Simon, the sales are impressive for such a short period of time.” 

Simon nods, his cheeks lifting like he’s trying to fight a smile. I hate him for breaking up with me.

“However.” My father’s secretary passes him a folder, which he flips open. This can’t be good. “While the sales are showing that a larger test run would be hopeful, I’m afraid we just don’t have the manpower to set up a division to oversee that. You’re welcome to keep selling in the University branch, but we’ll have to put a pin in this idea, and come back to it at a later time. Thank you for all the work you do for Deja Brew, Simon. We’ll be in touch.”

Simon’s face falls, and I have to look away. My father is already closing Simon’s file and reaching for the next. 

“Let me walk you out,” Fiona says to Simon. He nods, eyes cutting to me for just a moment. It’s all I need.

“No, don’t walk him out.”

I close my laptop and turn towards my father.

“I’d like to dedicate my time to pursuing Mr. Snow’s sales,” I say.

My father blinks at me before narrowing his eyes. He closes the file he was preparing for the next meeting with. 

“Basilton, I thought you were keen to start with Colm’s team on the bean suppliers?”

“I was. I am. I just think that this is a good opportunity for the company and we shouldn’t pass it up just because others are already set in their departments. I’m not in a department yet, and I wouldn’t mind overseeing an expansion of Simon’s recipes.” 

Father looks to Fiona, which is the first time he’s probably ever looked to her for advice in a meeting. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs.

“Fine,” he says. “We’ll have a discussion about the technicalities tomorrow. I’ll have Leah put it on your schedule. Simon, look for information from us soon. Now, everyone, if you’re involved with the trade discussion, you should stay, but otherwise, you can all get back to your offices.”

Fiona and I follow Simon out and to the lifts. 

“Thanks, Baz,” he says after pushing the down button. “You didn’t have to do that, I know you have a lot of other things going on.” 

I lean against the wall, trying not to give in to the urge to get closer to him. What have I gotten myself into?

“Don’t worry about it, Snow. You’ll just have to put up with me for a while, is all.”

The lift arrives and Simon smiles briefly, tugging at his collar. His smile melts some of my tension away.

“That’s not a problem,” he says, stepping into the lift. “I’ll see you around, then.”

The doors close and Fiona shoves at my shoulder.

“What the fuck are you doing, kid? Go after him!”

“What? Why would I do that? He broke up with me, remember?”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“You’re an idiot. Did you not notice how he was looking at you just now? Whatever he told you, that boy is still into you. And I know you’re still hung up on him. Hell, everyone knows now that you made that little gesture in the conference room. Christ, it’s like you don’t even see it.”

“Think of it this way,” she continues, “You’re going to be working with him for who knows how long, now. You can either pine away in secrecy...or you can get your answer right now.”

For a moment, I imagine it. Getting in the lift, racing through the lobby to catch Simon before he can leave. It’s something that’s very similar to a lot of my daydreams recently. Winning Simon back. 

But the memory of him breaking things off with us, the thought of him rejecting me again, is too much. I don’t think I could handle it. Besides, he’s better off without me.

I tell that last bit to Fiona and she scoffs and turns away.

“Whatever. You can’t avoid your feelings forever.”

I think of the months ahead working with Simon on his baked good line. I don’t have to avoid my feelings forever, just for a while. I can do it.

I barely make it back to the doorway of my office when I hear my name. It’s impossible not to. Simon’s just yelled it down the hallway.

I turn back towards the lift to see him stomping towards me. He must not have even made it to the lobby. The tie around his neck’s been half undone and his hands are in fists. 

“Simon? What’s the matter?”

“The matter,” he says, standing in front of me, “is that I can’t do this anymore. I told you I wanted to break up, and that was a lie. I didn’t. I just thought you had better things to do after graduation than date a guy like me. Which you do, obviously. But now that we’re gonna be working together again, I just don’t think I can pretend like I’m not still in love with you. And I know that might make things awkward but-”

I don’t let Simon finish that sentence. I pull him in by the tie around his neck (the tie I’m now definitely sure is mine) and when our mouths meet, he grabs at my waist. 

“I love you too,” I say when we pull apart. “And I apologize for everything I said that day. I was trying to hurt you, so I wouldn’t be the only one hurting.”

Simon shakes his head, “I was hurting, Baz. But I was only doing what I thought was best for you. For your future.”

I lean my head against his.

“Maybe we should talk about what I see in my future, because you’re a rather large part of it.”

“That sounds smart,” Simon says, kissing at my jaw.

I pull my head away from his.

“But we probably shouldn’t let all of my father’s employees see us doing this in the hallway.”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly the impression I wanna give after that meeting.”

“Right. I do have an office behind me, though...”

Simon grins and shakes his head. He tightens his hold on my waist and walks me backward. 

“You always have the best ideas.”

***

“You’ve got flour in your hair,” Penny says. “Again.”

I reach up to ruffle my hair, and sure enough, there’s flour in it. I sigh and wipe my hand on my jeans. Baz hates when I do that, but I don’t care. They’re just jeans. 

“How do you always get flour in your hair?”

I sigh, “Why are you guys always surprised? I’m a baker, I’m supposed to get flour everywhere!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, actually. What are you making today?”

“Pecan banana bread,” I answer, checking my phone. I set an alarm for 45 minutes, but I can already smell the bread baking.

Penny stretches, putting her feet in my lap from the other side of the sofa. “Didn’t you just make banana bread last week?”

Baz comes up behind us, tugging his suit jacket on. 

“He did, but the control group thought it needed more texture”

“What he said,” I tell Penny.

“Ah, well what the control group says, goes,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I liked the banana bread!”

“You’ll still like it,” I assure her. “It’s the same recipe, just with pecans! And more cinnamon, but that’s my own idea.”

“And didn’t you add almond milk?” Baz asks.

“Oh, that’s right! Some almond milk, too!”

Penny narrows her eyes.

“So...not the same recipe then?”

I look up to Baz and we both shrug.

“It’s close enough,” I say. I feel Baz push his fingers through my hair and smile, even though it makes Penny roll her eyes. 

“I’ve got a meeting in the afternoon, but I’ll stop by Deja Brew later,” he says.

I nod, pushing Baz’s fingers further into my hair.

“Oh, and Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve got flour in your hair.”


End file.
